


Legacy

by FallenKy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dead Dean Winchester, Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, POV Outsider, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Adopted the baby at the end, This can be read as gen or wincest, either way I'm cool with it baby, faceless woman on the porch? I don't know her, kind of, spoilers for spn finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:02:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27641132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenKy/pseuds/FallenKy
Summary: But baby Dean – who isn’t so much of a baby now as he is a boy and likes to go by DJ thank you very much, Dad – seems to have his coloring with green eyes and dimples when he smiles and a stubbornness for keeping his hair long despite his soccer coach's complaints he cut it. He blinked and suddenly he’s staring at the flipside of where this long road started.Of course, Sam can’t do anything without his brother though so DJ is raised with the ghost of the eldest Winchester haunting every moment of his Dad’s existence.Spoilers for the Supernatural Finale
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester & You, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 141





	Legacy

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, hearing Dean call Sam his baby brother has made my day, my week, my month, my year. I don't make the rules. Here's a post ep fic to celebrate some amazing brother love we were granted to end it all. This fic is faceless porch woman erasure.

Raising a kid is interesting.

He laughs sometimes, thinking about how he’d assumed he’d had enough experience with Jack that adopting the orphaned child from a werewolf slaughter would be anything similar. He says adopting but when you’re legally dead in most states and wanted for murder in the rest it’s more a state of mind and a lot of forged paperwork.

Within the course of a year, he’s suddenly a dad and owns a house and goes grocery shopping on Wednesday with hunts on the weekends.

Dean – baby Dean – is easy enough to please. He’d been barely a year old when Sam had scooped him up out of the werewolves' den. With no name and his asking around the local town for any missing kids turning up nothing, he’d been gifted with the only name Sam could think of and a car seat in the Impala. A Winchester anointing if he’s ever heard of one. It’s a little too convenient and he suspects Jack’s hand in it - as much as he promised Dean to keep living, most days it’s only the knowledge that there’s a child that depends on him that keeps his hand off the trigger.

But baby Dean – who isn’t so much of a baby now as he is a boy and likes to go by DJ thank you very much, Dad – seems to have his coloring and green eyes and dimples when he smiles and a stubbornness for keeping his hair long despite his soccer coaches complaints he cut it. He blinked and suddenly he’s staring at the flipside of where this long road started.

Of course, Sam can’t do anything without his brother though so DJ is raised with the ghost of the eldest Winchester haunting every moment of his Dad’s existence.

It’s not until DJ’s first-grade teacher mentions his dead partner that he realizes the implication.

“Excuse me?” He coughs when she brings it up tactfully, voice soft and soothing despite the question as only someone who works with toddlers all day can manage.

“Your partner – DJ’s other father who passed?” She asks with a sweet smile and Sam is desperately trying to figure out how she’s managed to put together the context without Dean even here to stand way too close and yell at anyone who blinks at him funny.

“DJ seems to be handling it quite well but I can tell it still weighs on him a little if you’d be open to me offering a therapist specializing in loss with children?”

He nods, vaguely appreciative of her reaching out for his son but distracted by the bigger implication.

“…Have you been talking about Dean?” He asks DJ when they reach the car, having no idea how to even broach this subject.

DJ nods without hesitation, climbing into his booster seat so Sam can buckle him in. “Yeah, everyone talks about their families.”

Sam’s heart warms a little but the teacher's concern still weighs on his mind. “Does Dean not being here make you sad?”

DJ nods, lower lip wobbling a little as he stares down at his camo backpack.

“That’s okay – it makes me really sad too,” Sam says gently, running a hand through his son's thick hair.

“Do you think – do you think Dean would have liked me?” DJ sniffles, cheeks flushed and nose running and Sam knows very well what it’s like to live in the shadow of the dead and he refuses to put his son through that. Dean will not sit on a pedestal only to have his memory tarnished by reverence and DJ will not live his life thinking his father would rather see someone else in the doorway. John’s drunken words spat in one of their yelling matches about who exactly should have survived the fire still burn deep.

“He would have loved you,” Sam promises, not a doubt in his mind. “But he’d also drive you crazy.”

“Nu-uh,” DJ looks up through his bangs, eyes wide.

“Yeah huh,” Sam mimics. “He drove me crazy. He’d never let you pick where you go and he’d probably make you sit in the back for the rest of your life.”

“What!” DJ squawks, his life’s dream currently fixated on getting Sam to let him sit in the passenger side seat for more than just a quick ride around the neighborhood.

“I bet he’d let you pick the music though,” Sam hums, shutting the door before walking around and climbing into the driver’s seat.

“Really?”

Sam glances back in the rearview mirror, his son’s green eyes bright with wonder as they stare toward the box of tapes he knows are stored underneath the seat.

“Really,” Sam promises.

And keeps promising.

And now DJ is sixteen and takes the Winchester name with so much pride in his heritage that Sam has to lock down the weapons room to keep him from solo hunting on school nights. DJ has all the swagger of his namesake with a leather jacket to match but takes to research and magic so well he both dreams and fears of introducing him to Rowena. Hunting is in his blood and if Sam didn’t already know it he sure as hell does the night of his sixteenth birthday.

“A tattoo,” He repeats, staring wide eyed at his son's arm.

“You’re acting like I got it to look cool – it’s for protection!” DJ huffs, the plastic covering on his arm scrunching as he tries to roll his flannel back down over the thick tape with no luck.

“You ditched school to go and get an illegal tattoo,” Sam continues, staring at the awkwardly rushed outline of what is apparently supposed to be an anti possession tattoo.

“Now you’re making it sound like I’m buying drugs! This is serious, Dad!”

“You went and found someone who was willing to take money under the table to do a tattoo on a minor and you think that–“ He gestures vaguely at the mess on DJ’s arm – “Is going to protect you from demons?”

DJ huffs, jutting his chin out and clenching his jaw in such a familiar gesture of stubbornness he almost thinks Dean came down and possessed him just to make a point.

He sighs, leaning back in his chair as he takes in his son and the truly unholy bargain bin tattoo on his arm. “You’re serious about it, huh?” 

DJ nods once, jaw clenched.

Sam sighs, closing his eyes before cracking a smile. “You should have known better but I already know what Dean would have done if he were here and if I ever see him again he’ll give me shit for not making sure you got a kick ass present from him for your sixteenth.”

DJ stares at him wide eyed, “Seriously?”

“Please. If Dean were here he would have taken you to a real shop and you two would have hid it from me until you were eighteen. The least I can do is let him enable you safely. So what we’re going to do is go see a doctor and make sure that isn’t infected and then once it heals we’ll get it redone for real.”

“You’re not – are you actually serious?”

Sam rolls his eyes, turning back to his laptop. “I’m not as big of a stick in the mud as you two seem to think. I don’t want my kids arm to fall off from his shitty tattoo, sue me – “

“You’re the best!” DJ interrupts grabbing Sam in a backward hug tightly before fist bumping toward the picture of Dean on the mantle, “Thanks, Dean!”

Of course, DJ fully embracing the hunting lifestyle comes with its own share of challenges. DJ isn’t a tragic hunter, he attends State college for an ancient languages degree – Sam did not cry when he got his acceptance letter no matter what DJ says – and has an entire childhood of friends and neighbors, and community to fall back on. That doesn’t mean the rumor mill doesn’t eventually find its way to him though.

DJ is nineteen and fresh off a poltergeist case when he walks into the house without greeting and straight into the basement where Sam’s sorting research files.

Sam grins without looking up from his book, “Nice timing, you might actually want to take a look at these I think I’ve condensed an exorcism – “

“You had powers?”

That stops him cold and his knuckles tighten around the binding. “What did you hear?”

DJ doesn’t hesitate, “I stocked up at a roadhouse in Wisconsin. Mentioned our last name and suddenly the entire place wanted to buy me a drink.”

“I’ve told you before, Dean and I had to do some pretty desperate things to save people and some of them are a little more public than others,” He explains slowly.

“Yeah, but you never told me about you having some sort of crazy powers – when you told me Lucifer was real and you had a history I didn’t know it was because you were sleeping with a demon.”

“Whatever they were saying it’s not coming from me. It’s just old rumors that get more dramatic every time they’re told. Yes, some of it is based on truth but it’s not whatever they’re saying,” He sighs, doing his best to keep a level head. DJ doesn’t know, he has no idea what’s he’s bringing up here –

“I felt like an idiot, Dad! They knew all this stuff about you and were throwing it in my face!”

“Not every hunter bar you visit is going to be Winchester friendly, that’s just the way it is –“

“I shouldn’t have to find out you were drinking demon blood from a bunch of washed up drunks!” DJ shouts, voice ringing in the basement, and Sam’s stomach drops. After saving the world countless times you’d think some of his actions would overshadow others by now.

He doesn’t even know what to say to that, having no idea if DJ wants an explanation or a fight. His son is hurting though, that much is obvious and Sam aches that he was too cowardly to broach the subject first, simply hoping it would never come up.

“I can’t believe Dean just sat back and let you do that!”

DJ’s voice is just as loud but Sam’s focus narrows, blood rushing in his ears. Even after all this time the insecurity still runs deep and Dean isn’t here anymore to reassure the past away.

“He didn’t. He threatened to kill me,” His voice comes out but it doesn’t sound like him, too tired and aged and maybe that’s just time catching up.

DJ stares back at him, the fight drained out of him and Sam’s concerned- he knows how hard and humiliating this must have been for his soon but right now he needs to get out of the cramped basement. He heads up the stairs and outside, the porch swing as good as anything to collapse on and consider his life's biggest fuck ups.

DJ joins him a few minutes later.

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, kicking the swing slightly with his too long legs. “I just – I forget sometimes. That I don’t actually know him, you know?”

Sam nods because he does the same too.

“I’m sorry for bringing it up like that,” He murmurs.

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it earlier and you had to hear it as roadhouse gossip.”

He wraps his arm around DJ and pulls him close, takes comfort in his son's head still falling on his shoulder despite his age. They swing for a moment in comfortable silence before Sam reminds him softly, “One day you’ll know him.”

“Unless he beats my ass first for saying that to you first.”

“You really know too much about a dead man for comfort,” Sam laughs as if it’s not his doing.

“Trust me, everyone has painted a very clear picture of what happens when people aren’t nice to you,” DJ grins, “But I can’t judge, I punched that asshole clean in the mouth when he said those things about you.”

“True things give or take,” Sam snorts.

“Yeah but it’s his tone, Dad. I don’t like to hear your name said like that.”

“I swear to God I’m going to get you tested one of these days to make sure you’re not somehow Dean’s secret love child,” He laughs, the pressure in his chest easing.

…

DJ is dead. At least he’s pretty sure he’s dead or else he somehow went to sleep in New Mexico and woke up in the Pacific Northwest which is a slightly more concerning problem, honestly.

He does a full take in of his surroundings but there’s nothing but a hell of a lot of tall trees and one long ass dirt road.

“Hello!” He shouts, listening in awe at the echo that bounces around the valley. He knows deep down this should be concerning but all he feels is peace.

“The neighbors are going to complain.”

A grin splits DJ’s face and before the speaker can even finish he’s turned around flung himself against their chest, strong arms catching him just like they always have and always will. 

“Hey, Dad,” He says, voice muffled against his Dad’s flannel and there definitely aren’t tears in his eyes.

“You better not have done anything stupid,” Dad warns but his hand is gentle as it brushes through his hair in a gesture he hasn’t felt in too many years.

“Come on, Sammy. Let the kid live a little.”

Another voice – this one rough and deep and while DJ has only ever heard it modulated in recordings he immediately recognizes the speaker.

He pulls out of his Dad’s arms and stares at the legend of the man standing just behind him. Dean Winchester raises an eyebrow in response.

“Oh my god-“ He gaps at him.

“Nice to finally meet you, DJ. I know way too fucking much about you for us to be strangers so let's get past the introductions quick,” Dean waves a hand dismissively but his eyes are kind in the same way they always are in photographs with his dad.

“Yeah – that about sums it up on my end too,” He laughs and it’s just too much so he reaches over and hugs Dean because this man helped raise him even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“Alright alright,” Dean gives his shoulder a strong squeeze in return before pulling back with a grin. “So let’s see this tattoo I paid for.”

“It was done in remembrance you ass, I paid for it.” Dad rolls his eyes, nudging him forward toward the Impala and –

“Holy shit,” He stares in awe at the classic car and while he and his Dad always took good care of her it was nothing on the vision in front of him.

“Raised a man with taste, Sammy. At least you didn’t completely go wrong.”

“Shut up.”

DJ ignores their bickering, reaching for the door to the front seat out of habit but Dad nudges him toward the backseat.

“Seriously, I can’t drive? Not even just a few miles?”

Dean scoffs, sliding into the driver’s seat and starting up the car as Dad drops into shot gun. “Hell no, but if you’re lucky I’ll let you choose a tape.”


End file.
